I ditched my gym workout to go climbing in a national park. I almost quit, but pushing my limits was exhilarating and unforgettable.

We set off from our home of Dartmouth, a pretty seaside town, for a rainy, hour-long drive to Dartmoor to meet our guide, Chris Bartlett of Dartmoor Adventures, at a car park. It was a miserable, wet morning and the visibility was poor, which made me apprehensive.

But I tried to tell myself it was atmospheric, not just bleak.

We laced up our walking boots, put our harnesses and helmets into our rucksacks, and took a short walk to our first destination, Greator. We were covered head to toe not just because it wasn't particularly warm, but because there are lots of ticks on Dartmoor, and we didn't want to get bitten.

Bartlett guided us through the rock formation as we slowly climbed it, carefully placing our hands and feet in stable spots, squeezing through cracks, and pulling ourselves up until we were at the top, about 26 feet above the ground, before carefully making our way down the other side.

There wasn't a sharp drop or super steep inclines though, so I never felt like I was about to fall.

Fortunately, the rain had lightened up significantly by this point, but the granite was slippy under foot.

He also suggested we look for small V-shaped holes in the rocks to place our feet.

I'm no stranger to a hike, so I've unofficially scrambled plenty of times, but I was still the slowest in our group because I wanted to make sure my hands and feet were always perfectly stable before moving onwards to stop me from slipping.

I was careful but didn't feel scared that I'd fall and hurt myself, and it was a lot of fun — especially as the weather brightened up a little.

The scrambling definitely built my confidence for what was to come too.

Listening to Lena Drapella, our photographer who specializes in rock climbing, and Bartlett discuss the merits of different types of "approach shoes" confirmed to my boyfriend and I that we were truly rookies.

But we were still unjustifiably confident and excited about trying a climb a bit later.

The successful scramble made me feel ready for bigger challenges, and we were raring to scale some rocks. It felt great to be outside and using my body in ways I'm not used to.

By this point it was really windy, but it was exhilarating and refreshing being out in the elements and made a change from being in a sweaty gym on my own.

At this point, I was excited, looking at the crag and thinking I would nail it. It was a simple challenge in theory: Find the nooks and crannies in the rock face to climb to the top then abseil back down.

I'm strong, I'm fit, this will be a piece of cake, I thought.

I was wrong.

I quickly realized that it wasn't the easiest of climbs because the rock had a slight overhang at the start.

I tried three times and barely got anywhere.

My hands hurt, my nails were scratched, my forearms were burning, and my callouses from weight lifting were reappearing.

Slightly frustrated, I took a break and let my boyfriend have a go.

I was definitely out of my comfort zone, but I remembered that I was once a beginner in the gym too, a beginner who couldn't do a pull-up, push-up, or deadlift like I can now.

Did we cheat slightly? OK, yes.

The key, we discovered, was a helpful boost from your partner to get past the bottom most challenging bit.

But it was nice to have people encouraging me and feel part of a team all supporting each other, which isn't something I usually have working out alone.

The team were cheering me on and helped me when I felt I couldn't keep going or had no idea where to put my hands and feet.

The rock was slippery with moss and rain, and I was surprised by how out of breath I was.

Abseiling down afterwards felt like a treat. The climb had been a lot more difficult than expected.

Needless to say, I had a newfound respect for rock climbers after my first attempt.

As Bartlett scrambled up to secure the rope at the top of the 49-foot-high crag in Hound Tor, we caught our breath and basked in the afterglow of our achievement.

I felt awesome succeeding at something I didn't think I could do at first.

This climb felt a lot less scary and a lot more fun than the previous one, given there were points you could actually stop without having to cling on to the rock to stop yourself falling.

While trying to get myself up on to a ledge midway up the crag, Bartlett suggested I perform a movement akin to a muscle-up (a gym movement I cannot yet do). This not seeming achievable to me, I got myself up like someone struggling to get out of a pool. Or like a whale, apparently.

But I completed the climb!

Abseiling down was harder and slightly scarier this time, mostly because I was higher, but I managed it.

The wind was really strong but the sun was also making an appearance, which was a lovely way to end our adventure.

While the scrambling was fun, it was the climbing that had provided the real thrill of the morning, because I failed a few times before I succeeded.

I felt proud for doing something that broadened my horizon.

While this may have been partly due to my lack of technique, I was covered in bruises and scratches after the climbing. Immediately afterwards, my hands and fingertips hurt a lot, and later on, I could tell that my whole upper body had been braced.

I was exhausted, but I had a great time. A large lunch, shower, and tick check later, I was ready to crash.

Being part of a team and helping each other was really fun, and getting active in such a striking setting was amazing.

Climbing on Dartmoor isn't realistically something I can do on my own or before work every morning like my gym trips, but my adventure has definitely inspired me to explore the world around me and try new activities more often.